


Before I Wake

by Foophile



Category: Prison Break
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bed Sharing kink, F/M, M/M, Night Terrors, Past Relationship(s), Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 11:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5964823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foophile/pseuds/Foophile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael tries not to scream when he wakes. </p><p>Originally written in 2010 for Round 16 of Rounds of Kink. Prompt by Clair_de_lune, "It's the only way they've found to keep his nightmares away", Sharing a bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before I Wake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clair_de_lune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clair_de_lune/gifts).



Michael tries not to scream when he wakes. It’s hard sometimes. More often than not the nightmares follow him for long minutes into the darkness of the bedroom and he can’t feel Sara next to him or smell the salt of the sea outside.

In those moments, he’s subsumed in pain and fear and the gritty smell of dirt and iron. Michael’s holding a gun against someone’s head. He’s running from gunfire, bullets danger-close and closing. Michael’s hands are covered in blood as he wraps them around the throat of a faceless man and squeezes.

It’s so hard to push the revolution of those fantasies aside. To silence the voice that always questions why if they were just dreams, did they feel so much like memories?

No, Michael doesn’t scream anymore. Not after the first night. But he shakes for many sleepless hours.

He doesn’t know that Sara knows.

Lincoln is sleeping over before he drives hours up the coast to visit LJ at school. Michael finds it hard to fathom his nephew in college, but the boy is now a young man and thriving. It hurts to see how much he’s missed in his lost years.

They have a family dinner. Michael Jr is in rare form tonight, mixing his rice and noodles on his high chair like one of Pollack’s best works. Michael watches him with a grin, he’s still in awe of this little life he helped create and Lincoln’s told him that the feeling never really wears off. When he focuses on the grown up conversation once again Sara and Lincoln are watching him.

“What?” He asks, frowning.

Sara shrugs and mutters, “Nothing.” Just as Lincoln goes back to eating his food with a worried look on his face.

Michael doesn’t know what he did, he’s pretty sure it was nothing, but something tells him not to bring it up in front of his son.

That night, Michael falls asleep with very little trouble. Sara is a comforting presence at his side and he curls into her warmth tonight, the dread he feels in the pit of his stomach forecasting hellish dreams.

They don’t disappoint. He’s in deep dark water, struggling to break the surface when he wakes with a strangled yelp, gulping at the night air.

It takes him forever to shake off the cold feeling of the sea and to stop seeing the sunlight filtered through inestimable miles. Michael’s lungs are still struggling when he feels the bed shift in a way that can only be Sara getting up. He tries to relax immediately, his chest aching as he fights to moderate his breathing, and thanks his stars when Sara leaves without a sound. He closes his eyes, then to blinks them open when his muscles clench with fear.

Michael thinks Sara’s simply gone to the bathroom or kitchen and rolls over as if he’s been sleeping undisturbed when the bed shifts again. But when Sara’s weight settles and yet another weight settles in the bed on the opposite side, Michael’s done with pretending.

He pops up immediately and Lincoln’s voice greets him in the dark.

“It’s okay, Mike.” What is undeniably his big brother’s square palm pats him gently on the back.

“Lie back down.” Sara says in the dark, her voice soft and soothing.

Michael shakes his head even though he knows neither of them can see. “What’s going on?”

The soft mass that is Sara scoots closer to his side. “Nothing, love. Just trust us okay? You need this.”

Michael frowns, wants to argue that point, when Lincoln’s hand balls into his t-shirt and pulls him back down to the bed. “It’s just so you can sleep. Nothing else.” Michael can tell that his brother is trying to be reassuring but his rumbling voice in the dark does more than that.

He told Sara years ago of the strange and uncertain bond he has with Lincoln. Sara had understood the concept because at the time they’d been running for their lives and his would-be family friends were attempting to kill them or recruit them in turns. But having the practical knowledge of their affair thrown in her face like this…

Michael’s about to split when Sara drapes a leg over his thigh. The weight is insubstantial but her words are not.

“I’ve watched you go through this with no help for too long and I’m not sure if this will do it, but having the two people who love you most in the world can’t hurt.”

Michael had forgotten how hard Lincoln’s body was. His big brother tucks into his side and it feels like his body is suddenly circulating champagne. Sara puts her arm over his waist, Lincoln rests his forehead against Michael’s shoulder and just like that he’s pinned down and wrapped up in limbs.

Michael braces himself for an onslaught of anxiety. Dreamlike horrors coming upon him with a new intensity, but one minute slides into five and there’s nothing. The smell of the sea still permeates his comfortable home and his son is sleeping peacefully in his crib. There’s no death or blood or screaming, and while his heart is still beating faster than normal, it’s because he’s remembering how Lincoln’s kisses used to distract him even on his most difficult workdays and how Sara’s skilled fingers can leave him delirious.

He’s peaceful with the memories and the reality of the three of them wrapped tightly around each other. It’s a breakthrough, Michael realizes. One he should have had months ago.

Michael sighs and relaxes into the pillows. The bodies cocooning him are warm and he’s floating off into sleep when Lincoln’s head moves and he can feel his breath on his cheek. Chapped full lips kiss his skin.

“Thank you for letting us do this,” Lincoln whispers.

Michael turns his head and kisses whatever bit of Lincoln his lips land on. He finds Sara’s hand and entwines their fingers.

“Thank you for wanting to.”

END


End file.
